Open Mic: A Hetalia Crackfic
by MapleKomori
Summary: The Axis leaves a microphone in the Allies' secret meeting room. Hilarity ensues.
1. The Axis

"Time to review the plan!" Germany shouted at his troops. Japan and Italy straightened up and saluted.

"Yes, captain," said Japan. "The plan I have devised to spy on the Allies is to put a sound transmission device into their meeting room. The device will pick up everything they are saying, and we will hear it on this machine." Japan opened his hand toward a small wooden box with a dial and two speakers on the front of it.

"Good," said Germany. "Italy, is your part of the mission complete yet?"

Italy looked up from a piping-hot plate of spaghetti. He slurped in the last noodle, letting it flick his face and leave a streak of tomato sauce along his cheek.

"Ve?"

"Dammit, Italy! Are you paying attention at all?"

"Yes, Germany," said Italy. "But then I was distracted by this pasta, so maybe you could explain it again for me."

Germany sighed. He wanted to yell at Italy again, but what good would that do? Italy would just smile back at him like always, with his eyes squeezed shut in his permanently carefree manner.

"Alright, Italy. I'll explain it one more time. First, you are going to get the device that Japan described to you."

"One that picks up sound, right?"

"Yes, that is correct. Then, you will sneak it into the allies' meeting room and turn it on so we can hear what they are saying. Understood?"

Italy saluted.

"Don't you worry, Germany. I can take care of it. In fact, I already did that before I made my lunch."

Germany blinked at Italy in disbelief.

"R-really? You... you completed your part of the mission?"

"Uh-huh."

"Without screwing it up or anything?"

"That's right," Italy said, grinning. "At least, I think so."

Germany's smile faded. Feeling the familiar uncertainty creep back, he listened as Italy babbled about what he had done.

"So, I found one of those things that Japan was talking about. It's long, like you can hold it in your hand, and it has a black ball at the top of it, like an ice cream scoop. And there's a cord coming from the other end. I got one of those and I put it right on the Allies' meeting table, so that means we can hear them talking now."

Germany and Japan exchanged nervous glances. A large sweat drop formed above each of their heads.

"Italy!" shouted Germany. "Not only did you botch your mission, but you gave our secret plan away!"

Startling, Italy leapt into the air. In doing so, he spilled his plate of spaghetti. He stumbled back, and a slice of pizza fell from somewhere under his uniform.

"Wah, Germany, what did I do wrong?"

Germany felt like he wanted to smack Italy upside the head. He folded his arms to prevent himself from doing so.

"Idiot," Germany said. "That was a microphone, not a secret listening device."

"But I hooked it up properly and everything," Italy argued. "Not only will we hear it on Japan's funny radio thing, but we can also get it in stereo because I set up speakers all around the Allies' meeting room."

"That's the problem!" Germany shouted. "Don't you think that the Allies will know exactly what it is that we are trying to do? Don't you think they'll know a microphone and speaker system when they see it?"

Italy burst into tears. Japan raised his hand.

"Captain," said Japan. "Perhaps Russia won't."

Germany facepalmed. The Axis stewed in silence for a moment more. Well, relative silence, because Italy was still sniffling. Then Japan spoke up.

"If I may interject, there is a chance that the plan may still work."

"How's that?"

"The Allies will only know that there is a microphone in their meeting room," he said. "They will not know that we put it there or what our intentions are."

"Even so," said Germany. "There is no way they will let us listen in to their meeting without questioning it. No one will walk into their secret meeting room, see a sound system mysteriously set up, and carry on as if nothing is out of the ordinary. Nobody is that stupid."

But Germany was wrong.


	2. Arriving

Running like a wild stallion, America tore down the hallway and burst into the room. He leapt over a chair, cleared the railing, and landed on the other side. Letting himself sink to his knees, he slid to the blackboard and tagged it with a hearty slap.

"First!" he shouted. "I'm the first one here!" This garnered a sigh of annoyance from England, who had been waiting for quite some time for the others to arrive. He was already halfway through his second cup of tea, and he had reread his notes so many times he had practically memorized them.

"Really, America," England said. "Must you always make such a spectacle of yourself?"

America didn't bother to respond. Instead, he plunked into the chair next to England. Then, he took a hamburger out of his pocket and began to stuff his face. England looked in America's direction, raising a remarkably thick eyebrow. As he waited for America to finish his burger, he silently crafted the perfect insult. However, the moment was interrupted as France and China wandered into the room.

"So, you see, China, there are many things you can do with sesame oil," France said. "It is such a shame that you use yours only in cooking."

China looked away in embarrassment.

"I would rather not be so wasteful, aru."

"Ah, but it is not a waste," France said, conjuring a curtain of sparkles and bubbles. "Once you try it, you will see. Right after this meeting, go find one of your lady friends... or man friends... or, actually, I will do it with you."

"Ah, that won't be necessary, aru!"

"My dear China -"

"Look! It is time for the meeting to begin!"

China hurriedly nodded 'hello' to England and America, and took his seat at the table. With a slightly disappointed sigh, France put the bottle of sesame oil away. He put his pants back on and sat down next to England. The four nations exchanged glances and counted one another.

"Where is Russia, aru?"

"I guess he's running late," said America.

"Couldn't be," said England. "I thought he was the first to arrive, since someone must have gotten here before me to set up this sound system." England gestured toward the microphone that sat on the table, and then to the stereo speakers in each corner of the room.

"I thought that was your doing, Angleterre."

"No."

"It was not me either," said Russia, who had just appeared in the doorway.

"Alright," said America, lunging for the microphone. "Testing! One, two, three, hamburger! Looks like we're all here!"

The other nations covered their ears as the speakers shuddered. America laughed and twirled the mic in his fingers.

"As I, the Hero, was saying, all the Allies are here."

"What about Canada?" asked France.

"Cana-who?"

"Canada. Your brother."

"Um..." America wrinkled his brow, trying to picture the nation in question. The name sounded familiar but he couldn't imagine the face.

"Well, anyway, since I have no idea who he is, we can probably start without him."

The other nations nodded toward one another in agreement.

"And thank yooouuuu," America warbled into the mic, "for bringing this awesome microphone for me! It's way cool! Not that I need it, hahahah! My voice is loud enough, I always say."

England leapt to his feet and wrestled the mic away from America. America lunged after it, but England held it away from him, and with his other hand, he pulled America's hair.

"Ow! My amber waves!"

"Then learn how to behave."

"I don't wanna."

America turned away and pouted. For just a moment, England looked to America in sympathy. Then America's fist landed in his face. The two nations scrambled into a dust cloud of kicks, punches, and slapping.


	3. China and America

When the dust settled, America raised his arms over his head in victory. In his hand was the microphone. England pulled a hamburger out of his pocket and used it to distract America while he retrieved the mic.

"That's quite enough of that," said England. He set the mic back down in the middle of the table. "Let's start with the first issue of today."

"But of course," said France. "The most important thing we must discuss is No Pants Day."

"No Pants Day?" the other nations chorused.

"Yes," said France. "This is following up from my proposition last time - "

"No, you git!" shouted England. "I meant we need to talk about important things!"

"But Angleterre, this is important."

"Honestly," England said, sighing in exasperation to an empty space beside him. "Can you believe what I'm forced to tolerate?"

"Uh, England?" said America. "You're not talking to Tinkerbelle again, are you?"

"For the hundredth time, his name is not Tinkerbelle. It's Moonblossom!"

"And stop distracting from No Pants Day!"

America, England, and France jumped at one another. Punches were thrown. Dust clouds were raised. Pants were removed. Russia observed with a blissful smile on his face.

"Hey, China."

"Ah... yes, aru?"

"Isn't it lovely to watch their little bodies get pulverized by one another?"

China shuddered. He inched away from Russia, but Russia followed every time he tried to move away. That's when China remembered the microphone that was sitting on the table. He grabbed it and spoke into it as loudly as he could.

"Attention Allied Forces, aru!"

At once, the fighting stopped, if only because the others had never heard China's voice that loud before.

"We came here to have an important meeting, aru, so let's set our bickering aside... and have a snack, aru!"

China reached into his back pocket and pulled out an entire Chinese restaurant. Everyone stuffed themselves with dim sum and fried rice, and after that, they were much more cooperative. America took the mic again.

"Okay, so let's start this meeting for real," he said calmly.

"Even if Canada is not here?"

"He snoozes, he loses. Okay, so the first topic on the agenda is - "

The microphone screeched with feedback. Everyone covered their ears and cringed.

"Point it away, you git!"

"Huh? Oh, okay... Okay-ay-ay-ay... Hey, when I talk like this, it echoes."

England facepalmed.

"America, what are you doing?"

"Echo! Echo!" he shouted into the mic. The mic and speaker system obliged.

"Echo-o-o-o-o-o-o-o..." America's voice rang out through the room. This continued until more feedback squeaked in and America's voice went funny. Then the mic stopped working entirely.

"Aww, man," said America. "This thing is busted."

"What does that matter, aru, if you were only playing with it, aru?"

"Stupid piece of garbage," America muttered. "Probably made in China. Uh, no offence, China."

China scowled.

"Why did I waste perfectly good Har Gow on you?"


	4. France

**A/N: France's song is called "La Vie En Rose."**

Putting his pants back on for the third time that day - or maybe the fourth time - France pushed between America and China. He plucked the mic from America's hands as if picking a delicate rose. Then he sauntered across the room.

"My brothers in arms," he said. "And, my lover in bed," he added, with a wink toward England. England scowled and turned away.

"I, France, the country of love and romance, will show you what to do with a microphone."

"I hope this does not involve sesame oil, aru."

But, much to China's relief, that was not what France was planning to do. France snapped his fingers and the lights went dim. A single spotlight shone down on him, as did a rain of sparkles and bubbles. In a voice as rich and silky as liquid dark chocolate, France began to sing:

"Quand il me prend dans ses bras  
Il me parle tout bas  
Je vois la vie en ro-o-o-ose

Il me dit des mots d'amour  
Des mots de tous les jours  
Et ça me fait quelque cho-o-o-ose

Il est entré dans mon coeur  
Une part de bonheur  
Dont je connais la ca-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-ause!

C'est lui pour moi  
Moi pour lui dans la vie  
Il me l'a dit, l'a juré pour la vi-i-i-i-ie-e-e-e -

Wait, where are you all going?"

France snapped his fingers once more, just in time to see his allies fleeing from the room with tears in their eyes.

"It is so beautiful, aru!"

"That perverted bastard has the voice of an angel."

"Wha! Don't look at me! I... I just had a really strong onion in my burger."

"I am not crying! I am merely leaking vodka from my eyes!"

France stood alone in the room and waited for the others to return. After about fifteen minutes, France figured he had made them all far too emotional, so he went after them to toughen them up again. He knew all too well, all he had to do was appear naked in public and they'd be shouting and fighting like their old selves again. He shed his clothing, put his rose in place, and scampered after them.

The Allies' meeting room sat empty. If the Axis was still listening in, they'd be frustrated having been there all day and still gotten zero information. However, they too had heard France sing, so Germany was busy yelling at Italy to stop crying while Japan was wondering how he could sneak away to get a picture of Naked France.


	5. England and Russia

England was the first nation to recover, having stereotypically very few emotions to begin with. He crept back into the empty room and greeted the fairies and unicorns that had supposedly been there waiting for him.

After waiting for a moment in silence, his sights fell to the abandoned microphone. Without giving it a second thought, he tore off his uniform, revealing the baggy T-shirt and jeans he wore underneath. He put on sunglasses and a backwards baseball cap, and grabbed the mic.

"Flying Mint Bunny," he said. "Drop me a phat beat."

Flying Mint Bunny swirled around England, beatboxing into his tiny little paws. England nodded to the beat. Then he raised the microphone to his mouth.

"My name is Britain and they call me Great,  
France will try to outdo me, haters love to hate  
I'm a rapping nation, bet you didn't expect  
And if you want to get to know me, then I'll tell you direct

My heart is ambitious, my navy is vicious  
And if you ask the right people, my scones are delicious  
They call me Great Britain, remember my name  
Because I've got an empire and a world to reclaim."

England took a bow and let the fairies' applause wash over him.

"Do another song!" shouted the pixie.

"Yes, a love song!" said the unicorn.

"Well..." said England, catching his breath. "All right."

The pixies, unicorns, and other imaginary things cheered. England brought the mic to his lips once more.

"Alfred is my honey and I know how to please  
I never make orange juice but I Florida squeeze  
And there is nothing that can come between my Alfie and me  
Unless you may be counting on a really big sea

So back off, Russia, and back off, France  
As I'm the only nation ever getting in his pants  
Bugger off, Cuba, bugger off, Japan  
He's America the beautiful and I'm his leading man."

Applause. England heard applause, and this time, it was too loud to be coming from the fairies. He whirled around to see the other Allies standing in the doorway.

"Er... how much did you hear?" asked England. France, who was still naked, smiled a sparkly smile.

"Enough," he replied.

"Okay," said Russia, pushing his way to the front of the room. "Now it is my turn." He grabbed the mic from England and he stared at it. A smile crept across his face and grew wider and wider. Then, he squeezed his fist closed, crushing the microphone. When Russia opened his hand, there was nothing left but bits of crushed metal and copper wiring.

"That was fun," said Russia. The other Allies cowered.

********

Germany listened with his ear up against the radio. There had been nothing but silence for several seconds.

"The Allies may have discovered us and disconnected the microphone," he said. He turned off the radio. "This whole day was a waste. We collected no information whatsoever."

"I do not see it in such a way," said Japan. "I got a very useful photograph." He looked up, revealing a bloody nose and a photograph of naked France hugging a tearful America.

Germany facepalmed again.

"Oh, don't worry, Germany," said Italy. "Even though we all did something really stupid and wasted a lot of time, for every negative, there is a positive."

Germany looked fondly at Italy's innocent smile. Even on the most frustrating days, that silly Italy could cheer him up.

"And what is the positive from today, Italy?"

Italy whipped out a pot of boiling water that was foaming over with starchy bubbles.

"I'm making more pasta!"


End file.
